


The Black Box Heist

by tsurai



Series: Infinity Complex [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Infinity Gems, Peter is confused and a bit terrified
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurai/pseuds/tsurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rocket picks his jaw up off the table. “Quill, your eyes are glowing purple.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Box Heist

**The Black Box Heist**

Peter stumbles into the main chamber of Milano where they take their meals, yawning and rubbing sleep sand out of his eyes. “Good morning, guys.”

Rocket just grumbles, not looking up from his coffee cup.  “It’s morning,” Drax says, pushing past him on the way to get food, “though I do not know if it is good yet.”

Gamora turns, a small smile on her face that drops into an expression of shock. Her plate of eggs clatters to the floor. “What the hell happened to your eyes?” She looks upset and maybe even a little fearful. Rocket, Drax, and even Groot in his little pot turn to look at him.

“What?” Peter stares back, not getting it. “What are you talking about?”

Rocket picks his jaw up off the table. “Quill, your eyes are glowing purple.”

He freezes. _No_. Peter turns on a dime, bolting for the bathroom with its little shaving mirror attached to the wall above the sink. Sure enough, two purple irises stare back at him, the glow just bright enough to be noticeable even in the in the well-lit bathroom. “Son of a _bitch_!” At least they aren’t surrounded by the freaky black shit like Ronan’s were. He stares at his own face for a long moment, the noise of his friends’ feet on metal flooring coming to a standstill by the bathroom door. “I thought it was just a dream,” Peter mutters.

The thought send a warm thrum through his torso. He gasps, yanking up the threadbare shirt to look at his chest before he can comprehend what’s going on. One of the Guardians makes a choking sound and Peter turns, showing them his front.

“What is that?” Drax is the first to speak.

They can see a purple glow emanating under the skin between the spaces of Peter’s ribs, darker where bone blocks the light. The glow pulses, dims, and brightens again in time with his heartbeat. Just thinking about it makes his heart speed up, and the glow does the same.

“I think it’s the gem,” Peter says. He hasn’t felt this confused since he came to on Yondu’s ship, only eight years old and reeling from Mom’s death.

“You mean the gem that almost killed you and destroyed Xandar, the stone we left with Nova Prime. _That_ stone?” Gamora hisses, eyebrows furrowed as she glares at him. Peter throws up both hands in surrender, letting his shirt drop.

“I swear I didn’t take it! You had it the whole time after Yondu left.”  
“Then what is it doing here? Better yet, why is it inside you?” Rocket demands, already scrambling on top of the sink to get a better look. Obligingly, Peter lifts his shirt again as the raccoon looks him over and presses a furry ear to his chest.

“Hey!” It tickles and he jerks away.

“Just checking,” Rocket huffs, jumping back to the floor. “Sounds normal as far as I can tell. But _how_ did it get in you?”

Peter sags against the sink. He can already feel a headache building. “I don’t know, okay? I just woke up and it was sitting next to my bed and it said it liked me. Then I touched it and it disappeared.”

“You touched it?” Gamora doesn’t shout, but she’s definitely not the picture of calm.

“You’re a dumbass,” Rocket says, matter of fact.

“The stone likes you? Is this another of your metaphors?”

“No,” Peter sighs, giving in to the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “C’mon, we left Groot alone on the table.”

It only takes a few minutes to explain everything about the situation – mainly because he knows next to nothing. Gamora cleans up the mess she made earlier and they all listen as Peter talks through bites of his own breakfast.

“So the magic glow stone wants us to, what, go after the other stones we saw in the Collector’s holograms? Talk about ambition,” Rocket snorts, hunched once more over his mug of coffee.

“I am Groot!” a little voice pipes beside him. It’s the first time the _flora colossus_ has spoken since its regeneration, and it makes them all smile.

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s going to be any money in this one, buddy,” the raccoon mutters fondly.

Gamora is leaning against the far wall, arms crossed. “I still think we should go back to Xandar and put the thing back for good this time.”

“I don’t even know if that will work,” Peter says, frowning at the discontented rumbling in his chest. “Even assuming we get it out of me, I don’t think it’s going to stay behind. I mean, it jumped over a quarter of the quadrant just last night.” He’s gratified to see Drax nodding along with a calm expression.

“The power of an Infinity Stone would aid us greatly in destroying Thanos,” the big man says.

Peter watches Gamora freeze, looking contemplative. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admits. Peter could see her point – they’d been so worried about stopping Ronan and keeping the gem from hurting anyone, the thought of actually using the gem after the one occasion hadn’t really occurred to anyone. They sit in silence a few moments, the quiet only broken by a soft rustling of Groot’s leaves.

“Say we decide to go after the stones,” Rocket says, throwing back the last of his coffee and slamming the mug down on the table. “Where do we start? I’d never even heard of the things until that blonde weirdo showed us what was in the orb.”

“I don’t-” Peter starts to say but is cut off.

_We have already felt the presence of one of my brothers, Peter Quill_ , a voice echoes in the back of his mind. He can’t help the startled yell that escapes him, or the wince of pain as he bangs a knee on the bottom of the table trying, and failing, to stand. Peter scans the room, but the other Guardians are only looking at him in confusion, not searching for the source of the voice.

“Uh, guys, I don’t suppose you heard…” he trails off, suddenly aware of a low vibration in his chest.

_We are in your thoughts_ , the voice sounds amused. _Of course they do not hear us_.

Peter’s mouth goes dry, and he’s probably freaking the others out because _what the fuck it’s talking to me_. “Oh my god,” he swallows. “Guys, _it’s talking to me_.” It laughs then, the sound curling around him like smoke hovering over still water.  

_Calm yourself, Peter Quill_ , it says.

“Telling me to be calm is _not making me calm_!” Peter’s hands clench at the edge of the table. Drax puts a hand on his shoulder, an anchor that he can’t help but lean into.

“The stone is speaking with you now?” Drax enquires, blue eyes boring into his. “Is it threatening?”

Before Peter can answer his chest pulses again. _We will not hurt you.  We like you,_ the gem hums. _We will keep you safe from those who wish you harm, Peter Quill_.

“I, uh, no,” he finally says after a moment too long. “No, it’s…friendly?” He’s actually hoping that the man will tell him he’s just having some kind of super-realistic hallucination, but Drax just nods with a squeeze before dropping his hand.

“Great, so Quill does have some sort of super-powered weapon in him, one with a mind of its own,” Rocket grouses. “I suppose there have been weirder things in the ‘verse.”

“I am Groot,” Groot says, prompting a snort of laughter from the raccoon. It’s moments like this that Peter wishes he could understand what the plant being says, if only so he can be in on the joke.

_We cannot help you with that, though perhaps one of our brothers_ …the stone muses.

“Oh my god, shut up already!” Peter rubs the bridge of his nose. Groot huffs, offended if the bristling of its leaves are anything to go by. “Not you, Groot. I was talking to the stone.”

Gamora is staring at him, and when he meets her eyes her expression wavers between concern and amusement. “We still know nothing about these stones, really. Just because it doesn’t _look_ like it’s hurting you doesn’t mean it’s friendly,” she points out.

“But if Peter can wield the stone, should we not use it to fight Thanos?” Drax inquires. He’s playing with one of his knives again, flipping it from hand to hand and rolling it between large fingers. Peter tries not to let it distract him but _shiny things are my weakness, okay_? and he misses the first part of Gamora’s reply.

“-it could hurt him, or one of us! We need to know more about it before we try to find any others.” Peter doesn’t fight his smile. Considering how short of a period they’ve know each other, it’s really nice to see that she cares about him, even a little bit. Probably not enough to get into her deliciously tight red pants, but that’s not the end goal and it hasn’t been since she held a knife to his throat but didn’t cut him or throw him off the balcony. Peter holds a lot of respect for her. Fear, too, but mostly respect. Totally.

“So we need to get more info,” he cuts in, since Drax stopped playing with his knife and looks about to say something scathing. “And we only know of one person with any knowledge about the Infinity Stones…” They all look at each other.

“The Collector.”

* * *

 

He’s off-schedule after so much planet-hopping the past month, but it feels late when he finally get to bed. He hears Drax and Gamora settling into their bunks, though Rocket still lingers on the main deck with Groot. And thank god no one complained about sharing a room – even rebuilt the Milano is small and the under deck a necessarily shared space. The first time Gamora changed clothes in the same room Peter almost swallowed his own tongue. The woman glared a little, but didn’t seem to mind as long as he kept his eyes mostly to himself. Drax just made a thoughtful sound and settled in, though from his apparent aversion to shirts Peter guessed that modesty wasn’t a big deal for his people. The Terran had met more than a few species for whom nudity wasn’t even a concept and they found the idea behind clothes somewhat horrifying.

Of course, half those peoples had thick fur or damage resistant hides, so he could understand.

Peter slumps with a sigh, staring at the dark grey metal above his head. The debate on the pros and cons of visiting the Collector went on for hours, and though the conclusion landed in favor of going to Knowhere, pursuing more stones was still up in the air. Drax was firmly for it, declaring that they should utilize every possible advantage when Thanos inevitably comes calling. This led to some words on Gamora’s part. Yes, she wanted to take down the Mad Titan, but apparently he had held the _all_ of the stones in his possession before (“So you have heard of them!”) and they should consider that the Guardians could be delivering them right into Thanos’ hands.

He shivers. The story of the Mad Titan’s actions, of untold galaxies wiped away in less than a minute, makes Peter feel sick to his stomach. To think that any one person could hold so much power…it drove home the realization of what he now had nestled in his chest. He’d seen what the gem could do with his own eyes, even felt it as they channeled its power to destroy Ronan.

If it hadn’t been burning him out, the experience would have been exhilarating, but that terrified him in turn. Peter wasn’t a good guy. He’d stolen, fucked, and swindled his way across galaxies in true Ravager fashion, with only a few of what the rest of the ‘verse  would loosely term  “morals.” He loved money for the physical comforts it brought him – so he did what he could to keep money flowing – but he’d never been power hungry, had never killed for the thrill of it. His blasters, his boots, the things he could build or steal with his own hands, had always been enough to get him through the day. Peter’d never felt the need to harness a weapon of mass destruction. He knows, with absolute certainty, that he isn’t suited to the kind of potential that comes of a weapon capable of destroying planets. Now he is one, and though it has yet to manifest beyond a little glowing, Peter is terrified.

_And that’s why we chose you_ , the stone whispers. He tenses, but manages not to jump this time. Instead he closes his eyes.

_What?_ he says in his own head. Even a whisper would probably disturb Gamora. He doesn’t understand what the stone is getting at. It’s silent for a moment, just a flicker of warm curling and uncurling in his chest in time to the dull glow he can see through his t-shirt.

Then it speaks: _We are a singularity, one of six present at the dawn of the universe. Imagine, Peter Quill, that you are brought into existence as a conscious entity of endless power, but this power is never used toward your own ends. You are passed from king to madman, reunited and separated again from your siblings, and everywhere you go Death haunts your steps, and any left to fill the silence are only screaming. Long have we been tools, slaves to those who seek destruction._

He tastes ash in his mouth as his mind flashes to the girl, what was her name…. “I will no longer be your slave!” and then the explosion of purple fire.

_Yes, she could not contain us_.

_Then how can I?_  He can vividly picture his skin flaking away like the white rind on hot charcoal. Peter had not been enough then. He couldn’t carry the power the way Ronan could.

_Because you did not wield us with the intention to bring mass destruction, so we will allow you our power,_ it answers, matter of fact. _Because you are not greedy, Peter Quill, and for any corruption you carry, your intentions are good. We will allow you to use us, and in turn, no one will take you from us_.


End file.
